


Alone in a Crowd

by FairyNiamh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Happy Ending, Loneliness, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:59:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1840171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyNiamh/pseuds/FairyNiamh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Stiles was alone and the one time there was actually someone there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone in a Crowd

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Alone in a Crowd](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1973934) by [KittyKate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyKate/pseuds/KittyKate)



> Written for the 5+1 challenge @ 1 Million Words.

1.)

The first time I had felt alone, had been the day my mother had died. I was nine-years-old, alone with her in the hospital, when she took her last breath. Alone was how I continued to be for the next year, despite my father's presence.

Well, I couldn't and wouldn't hold it against my dad. I am sure I was not all that joyous to deal with. Though if you ask Scott, I was just… me. I was just Stiles.

Many a night I cried myself to sleep; and then cried even more in my sleep. Numerous mornings I woke up with tears staining my face and pillow.

I was surrounded by a sea of people, who could not or would not see me. Could not see the pain that I wore openly and without shame.

Nurses would hush me and tell me it will get better with time. That time heals everything. I disagree most fervently with that assessment. Time will never bring my mother back.

Family I have never seen before, tell me that my mom is in a better place. How could being away from her family, be a better place?

People, who worked with Dad, ruffled my hair and tell me to be a strong little boy for my father. If they could see how torn apart I am, they would see how weak I truly am.

People who once knew my Mom, would whisper; 'At least she's not in pain anymore.' Yes, my mom is no longer in pain, but my pain was off all charts.

I wanted to scream at them all. They knew nothing. What about me? Why did she leave me? Why is Dad in so much pain, that he drinks to run away? Why do people whisper about my Dad needing to send me away? I was just a little boy; why did I have to be the grown-up in that situation?

Did not I deserve the right to mourn my mother? Didn't I _need_ my dad to hold me every now and again, to cry with me? To just fucking see me? God, I hate being invisible and I hate being alone.

\----------

2.)

I was used to being invisible at school. Well, to most of my peers anyway. I had Scott though. He was as invisible as I was, and together we created a… presence. We were never alone, because we had one another.

It was easy to share my hopes and dreams with him. I didn't tell him everything. Some things should be kept only for yourself. I never told him that I liked boys as much as I liked red haired girls. He would have probably flipped his lid if I had. I am sure our one time kiss, still freaks him out whenever he remembers it.

The thing was, Scott was mine. Maybe not romantically, but he was still mine in every way that mattered. Until he was not. I tried to cling to him. Tried to keep him by my side, but I could not deny him happiness, and Allison was key to his happiness.

I watched him slip away and cling to her, leaving me alone. Even though he had promised that, he would never let me be alone. 

I want to cry, but I can't. The tears just won't fall. So I'll sit back and wish for someone to look my way. To take away my loneliness. It's… suffocating and I don't want it anymore.

\----------------

3.)

People never listen to me. So many deaths could have been avoided if someone would have just fucking listened to me. Honestly, it was as if they could not see or hear me.

I know, I'm human, but that doesn’t make my thoughts any less valuable. In fact, they are probably more valuable, because I am able to see the situation around me objectively. Well, for the most part that is.

Their refusal to fucking _listen to me_ causes Mrs. McCall and my Dad to be entangled into the insane reality I have been jumping into.

It's _not_ that I don't trust them to keep themselves safe, it's that I can't trust the rest of the pack, or the monster of the week, not to maul them. They… fucking hell, they are so damned important to me, and I don’t want to risk them or put them in harm's way.

The gunshots, the smoke, the fear, all playing repeatedly in my head. Unable to move, but able to imagine everything.

During that ordeal, I thought that Derek, at least, had finally seen me when he ordered my best friend to take me to safety, but I was wrong. I was put behind a desk and left there to fend for myself. To crawl away from the smoke. To avoid the Argents and the Kanima. To watch as Matt attacked my Dad as the Kanima stood by and waited for orders.

To see Melissa break down at seeing Scott as a werewolf. The worst part was… no one came to look for me. I wasn't pulled from the floor and checked over. Once I was able to walk, I was noticed… for a brief moment. It was just long enough, to be sent home… alone… to an empty house; where there was no warmth left to actually make it a true home. Sometimes, I wonder if it's all worth it.

\----------------------

4.)

I think Scott has been hit in the head one too many times. That is the only reason I can think of, for him doubting me… again.

I have been his friend for YEARS. He knows how rarely I am wrong. I told him the sacrifices were not the Alphas. The Alphas were trouble, make no doubt about that, but I knew that they were not responsible. It just seemed to go off the usual werewolf track that we were used to.

Yes, Peter had killed a few humans, but it was for revenge. However, if he thought he could get more power by sacrificing a few humans, he probably would have. Whatever, he had not thought of it, so it goes against the rules.

Still, Scott had to believe Isaac over me… or at least pause and consider the baby wolf's words. As I watch them walk away from me, I take a deep breath and try to keep my calm. Even if Scott leaves me for Isaac. It won't make me any lonelier than I already am. 

After all, he has left me more than once, for Allison, it makes sense that he would leave me for a puppy too. Fuck, I feel like I am at the bottom of the barrel already and I can't see any light.

\--------------

5.)

I used to love summers. They always meant sleeping in late, spending mornings (and some evenings) with my dad. Staying over at the McCall's playing games, making fun of the jocks, and just being teenagers.

Now it means hours on hours forced in front of the computer. Not looking up anything interesting. Not looking at porn. I like porn, porn is my friend and it never leaves me hanging. No, I am looking up facts about the monster of the week or how to heal the Nemeton.

No one likes my idea of planting a new tree to heal the old. I find that, at this moment, I don’t particularly give a fuck what their opinions are. I get in contact with a Coven of Druids, in Ireland, and arrange a deal. They will send me a sapling from their grove. In return, they want me to send them some of Jennifer's ashes.

I am careful about this deal and even grill Deaton under the guise of being worried. He assures me the most the ashes could do is act as a guide and the Druids assure me they only want to show the ashes to a few who are edging too close to darkness for their liking.

In the end, I agree. They get a small amount of her ashes and a week later, I have a sapling with instructions. Using my own blood, I bond the tree to myself and plant it in the center of the Nemeton's rotting stump. Just as I was directed.

It surprised me how well the Beech tree was growing. I wanted to share the news with the pack, but I knew what would happen. They would see the rot of the old fell tree, not the beauty of the new life coming from it.

Over the summer, I watched as the Beech tree grew unnaturally fast. Once my senior year was upon me, it stood well above my head. Maybe, next spring, I can have company during the spring rites. Surely, someone from the pack could see the beauty I see. I just don’t want to be alone.

\----------------

+1.)

There is something wrong with me. I-I feel like I am losing my mind. No, that is the wrong words. I feel so utterly alone. Not literally, I don’t think, God, I hope not.

How can I phrase this properly? It's like standing in an ocean of people who can't or won't see you. Except, you know that someone has to see you because the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up and your scalp is tingling.

Yeah, that is how I am feeling as I walk to my jeep after another successful hunt. Not that it was really a hunt. We went and scared away a small group of Water Sprites, who had just been taking a break in the river before pushing off.

Thank goodness the wolves kept their mouths shut and let me handle the situation this time. Where Sprites are not aggressive by nature, they are easily offended and can make your life a living nightmare. If they sense that someone was out to cause them or one of their group grief, lookout, because someone is going to be in for a world of pain. It did not matter though, things went smoothly and I can pat myself on the back for another stellar performance. I have to do it myself, after all no one else ever does.

When I finally slip inside my Jeep, I lay my head on the steering wheel, hold my breath, and try to will away any fear, anger, or sadness that is lingering. I count to ten in English, French, Spanish, and German… still I feel like I am on the edge of a knife and I am about to lose my balance.

Just as I feel my eyes start to water, I hear tapping on my window. I look in the direction of the noise and slowly open my eyes. Afraid that maybe, I had somehow screwed up and a sprite was waiting for me, but no. No, there on the other side of the glass, was a concerned looking Derek; with his palm pushed longingly on the glass.

I blink slowly and roll down my window. No words are exchanged. We simply interlock our fingers and _look_ in each other's eyes. It's a silent exchange and promise. Saying with our eyes and hearts what we cannot say aloud. That we are tired of being alone and want to lean against one another for support. That together, neither of us have to be alone ever again and perhaps, we hadn't been as alone as we had thought all this time.

~Fin~


End file.
